Hurricane
by Fire The Canon
Summary: Horace gets a job offer at Hogwarts, but in the meantime, he and Alma go to the Swiss Alps for a little holiday, doing the Muggle thing of skiing. HoraceOC.


_**Written for AStitchedUpHeart's Jigsaw Puzzle Challenge (piece #5 prompts: Title: Hurricanes, ski, Horace Slughorn)**_

_**Written for Gamma Orionis' Original Character Boot Camp using the prompt 'you can't catch me'**_

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**Hurricane**

Horace Slughorn had just been offered a job at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Two years out of school himself, it was a fantastic opportunity for him. He was a good Potions student, and now he had the chance to teach everything he knew to others.

How could he refuse?

"What does that mean, Horace?" Alma's blue eyes stared up at him, pleading. His position at the school would take him away from her. She didn't want that, and when he thought about it, neither did he.

It had all happened so fast for them. They'd passed each other in the corridors at Hogwarts all the time, but had never talked. Not until he'd finally found the courage at the end of their seventh year.

He wasn't the best looking boy there was, and he thought it highly inappropriate to talk to someone as lovely as she, but he'd been unable to resist.

Two years later, they were to be married.

"Will you go away?" Her eyes blinked away some tears.

"Yes," he told her. There was no point in lying. "But I'll return at the end of every term."

Alma turned away from him. "It's not the same, Horace."

"If it was possible to Apparate out of Hogwarts, I would, Alma. I can assure you."

His words seemed to mean little to her. She didn't speak to him for the rest of that day, nor the following two. She was upset, and how could he blame her? Their life had become such a whirlwind, it was hard for even him to keep track of sometimes.

"We could go skiing," he then suggested one morning.

She's looked at him, eyes unblinking, confused. "What is skiing?" she asked.

"It's a Muggle thing," he said cheerfully. "Never tried it myself, but we could give it a go."

Both being from Pureblood families – he a Slytherin, she a Ravenclaw – neither had grown up in families accustomed to Muggle traditions. But Horace had always been curious, and he had seen some photographs of this so-called skiing Muggles did.

It looked exciting.

Alma agreed to this trip despite her hesitations, and they set off to the Alps in Switzerland, receiving weird looks when Horace struggled with the Muggle money he was forced to pay for their room.

"Sir, you have not given nearly enough," the man at the resort stated.

"Oh, beg my pardon," Horace responded, fishing through his robes to extract two more coins.

"Sir…."

It took a good twenty minutes for everything to be sorted, the line behind them growing longer with impatient customers, and they were taken to a room that contained one double bed and a basin for washing.

Alma sniffed.

"I'm sorry, my dear, it's the best I could do."

The next challenge for them was hiring the skis.

"Some of those things, please," Horace said, pointing to two long things that the people in front of them had just taken away. He looked over his shoulder and saw they were also holding two sticks too. "Those too!"

With an amused look, the Muggle running the shop handed over what Horace had requested, and then helped him pay for the equipment.

"Five o'clock," he said, pointing to the clock by the door.

Horace nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"What is this monstrosity?" Alma questioned, studying the sticks and skis with disdain as they made their way outside to put them on.

Horace glanced to where another couple were putting on their own skis, and beamed. "You do this," he said, trying to squeeze is foot into one ski. "Look."

It was a struggle, but after putting them on the wrong way three times, they both managed to have the skis on safely.

Horace studied the skiers around him. "Looks easy!" he exclaimed, and made to get up. "You can't catch me!" he then said, and made for the snow.

Not realising it was near impossible to walk normally in the equipment, he tumbled sideways, both sticks flying into the air, missing Alma by half a foot.

From around them, other holidayers sniggered, but no one stopped to help them in their struggle.

Alma helped him to his feet, laughing. "Oh, Horace!" she said. "I just don't think we're made for this."

"No, no, we can do this, darling." Making sure no one was around to see, he pulled his wand from underneath his layers and cast a spell over each of their ski sets. "Now we'll see who's laughing," he told her, and set off as if he'd been doing it for years.

Staring down at her own poles, Alma moved forward a little, too. To her surprise, it felt natural to just slide along the snow, and soon, she and Horace were racing down the steepest hills, much to the surprise of the ones who had seen Horace fall flat on his backside not so long ago.

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_**I'm aware that more than likely in Horace's time, that staying in the same room as someone he wasn't married to, probably would have been frowned upon, but... do you know how hard it was to incorporate Horace and ski into one story? :P**_

_**Anyway, I kind of found this fun to write in the end. I don't think there's many fics out there with young!Horace, so I kind of enjoyed exploring it a little. I hope you all liked it too, and your reviews would be much appreciated!**_


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